


The Docks

by elfrootforapostates



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Elam Mahariel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 21:59:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3826516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfrootforapostates/pseuds/elfrootforapostates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Zevran and Elam stop for a meal.</p></blockquote>





	The Docks

Pressing back against the wall, Elam breathed in the thick afternoon air, heavy with moisture and spice. The yellow rays of light beating against the buildings and cobbled streets of Antiva city hung in the air, making his surroundings glow with a surreal beauty.

They had only been in Antiva City a few days, the first having been spent tangled in fine cotton sheets relaxing and reacquainting themselves after the long journey, Zevran had insisted on a bit of exploring today to get Elam used to his new home before dealing with the Crows.

Elam felt the magic of this place as they turned every new corner. A place Zevran had spoken so wistfully of during the blight, a place he was happy to now share.

His smile grew as he felt warm breath hover over his ear before skilled teeth gently bit down. Leaning into the touch he turned as warm fingers laced into his causing his breath to catch.

He laughed inwardly at the blush growing across his cheeks. Even after all their time together, Zevran still caused his heart to jump when he drew near.

Kissing Elam lightly, Zevran’s eyes lit as he spoke, “I have found it! Follow me.”

Zevran clutched Elam’s hand tightly as he led them through the maze of back alleys near the docks, past workers, prostitutes and men Zevran joyfully pointed out as corrupt politicians.

Finally coming to a stop in front of a small wooden building, partially obscured by the newer buildings that surrounded it, Zevran looked at Elam expectantly with a gleam in his eye. “Marvelous! Shall we go in?”

“In where?” Elam asked, smiling lightly as he looked for an entrance or sign as to where they were.

“Ah, my Warden! Trust me, you will enjoy this.” Elam noticed that Zevran nearly sang the words as he ushered Elam through a well-hidden door.

The first thing that Elam noticed was the fragrance of the room, a mixture of a strong spice he could not place and fish hung heavy, causing his eyes to tear as he suppressed the urge to sneeze. Small tables, covered in stained linens filled the room, as did the chatter of happy patrons.

Weaving their way through the small tables crowed in an even smaller space, Zevran directed Elam to sit next to a large window overlooking the seaport near the back of the room as he moved off to speak with someone.

Elam briefly wondered how he had failed to notice this building as they approached, it seemed to be a favorite to locals and he thought that perhaps, that was the whole idea.

Zevran returned carrying two large bowls, placing them on the table before he sat down next to Elam with a smile. Intrigued, Elam leaned over the bowl taking in the intoxicating aroma before looking back at Zevran, “What is this?”

Zevran’s grin only widened as he gazed at Elam. “This…is the finest fish chowder in all of Antiva! I came here often growing up in Antiva City. I was uncertain if it still stood, but I am happy that it is.”

Picking up a spoon and handing it to Elam, Zevran motioned towards the bowl, “I promise you will like it.”

Elam stared in slight disbelief. He would never have, before today used giddy to describe Zevran, but sitting beside him that is exactly what Elam felt radiating from him. It made his heart leap as he looked forward to all they would have together in Antiva, danger and intrigue included.

Leaning down, Elam dipped the spoon into the bowl, quickly examining the contents before bringing it to his mouth. The flavors of the stew assaulted his senses. Closing his eyes, he chewed slowly enjoying the moment; this was far from the bland, grey Ferelden stew he had gotten used to in Amaranthine.

“It is delicious, no wonder you missed this.” Elam laughed, shoveling another spoonful into his mouth.

Zevran chuckled loudly, pulling Elam into a firm kiss before starting in on his own bowl. The rest of the meal was enjoyed in silence and happy gazes.

Leaning back in his chair, Elam looked upon Zevran and the small chowder house on the docks. His decision to leave the Wardens had been purely selfish, he had only one desire in his life, and he sat happily sated in front of him.

Regardless of any risk, he could imagine no place he would rather be.

**Author's Note:**

> Zevran and Elam stop for a meal.


End file.
